Title: The Devil Has Blue Eyes
By: Aina Song
Fandom(s): Gundam Wing
Genre: Yaoi (with some Het thrown in)
Rating: PG-15
Warning(s): Contraband; Fusion; Language; Death; Murder.
Pairing(s): Heero/Quatre (constant mentionings of Het pairings)
Reviews: Yes, please.
Author's Note: (I'm afraid my usual Disclaimer will not be enough this time, so bear with me.) I, Aina Song, hereby acknowledge the illegality of the following fusion fiction, which is based very thickly upon Clara Wimberly's The Jeweled Heart of Rosemont Castle. I do not claim any rights or privileges her book may have earned her, nor do I claim credit for the book itself. This fanfiction follows her plot almost to the letter, with few changes tossed in here and there, but I must again press that it does so without the explicit permission of Ms. Wimberly, her editor(s), or her publisher(s). This fiction was not written for money; I do not profit from this in any way, shape, or form. Please excuse the illegality of it all, and I do hope my own readers will try to look past my unlawfulness and enjoy the fiction nonetheless. Thank you.
Teaser: He did not care that he was the lost heir to a winery fortune - especially since he couldn't remember that earliest piece of his childhood. He only wanted to reclaim the family that had been kept from him. But there was another who was determined to unmask him as an imposter. And, at the same time, a strange cold presence stirred again at his return, anxious to finish what it had started so long ago…
Chapter Twenty
"What?"
He moved away from Quatre, and the blond heard his low grunt of humor. Then a quiet shuffling of noise, and the scratch of a striking match. The lamp he lit made a soft orange glow but gave off little light through its soot-blackened chimney. But it was enough for Quatre to see his face and the flash of humor in those dark blue eyes.
Quatre felt an overwhelming rush of humiliation. He had been so caught up by his feelings for Heero that the blond had not stopped to think he might not be experiencing the same thing.
"I only meant you should change out of your wet clothes, warabe," Heero said quietly as held out something shapeless toward Quatre.
Warabe. The man insisted on teasing him with that word, whatever it meant. Hearing it again brought a foul taste in the blond's mouth, and he narrowed his eyes in insulted anger.
"I'll close my eyes," Heero offered, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth.
That got Quatre moving. Closing the distance between them in three long strides, he swung his fist, catching the darker man's jaw in a hard right hook. Heero reeled from the blow, taking a stumbling step backward, and Quatre grabbed the shirt from his hand before the other could retaliate, backing swiftly away to the other end of the room.
Yet Heero surprised him. Rubbing at his jaw, and the bruise that Quatre had no doubt planted there, the darker man gave a wider smirk and chuckled low under his breath. He knew he had finally struck a chord, and it seemed to give him great pleasure. "So," he taunted, tucking his hands in his pockets while Quatre shed his own shirt in exchange for the dry one. "What the devil are you doing way out here?"
"Something you probably would not approve," Quatre snapped.
"No doubt. But why don't you tell me anyway? Weren't you afraid you might run into the wolf again?"
"As a matter of fact, I hoped I would," he said as he finished buttoning the large shirt. It was obviously someone's workshirt, and it hung loosely about him.
"And why would that be?"
"I wanted to meet the man they call the Demon."
"Why?"
"Why not?
Heero took a long, slow breath and expelled it, the sound loud in the small room. "Don't play your games with me, warabe," he said. "You are not quite sophisticated enough with your lies to fool me yet. And your face hides nothing."
Quatre felt his eyes narrowing again, and he threw his fists into his pockets to keep from lashing out a second time. "Fine. But first, you tell me what I did to make you hate me the way you do."
"On the contrary… I feel nothing for you one way or the other."
Liar. His impassioned oath - "Damn you…" - still whispered in echo in Quatre's memory. Shaking his head, the blond answered, "I hoped he might tell me something of my mother. Before Rasid died, he wasn't able to tell me much. But he did manage to mention a name - Duo. In questioning people, Zechs has learned that is the name of the man who lives on the mountain."
"I see," Heero muttered thoughtfully, his accent pronounced. "So Zechs has offered to help you, has he?"
"So what if he has?"
He laughed again, a dry, mocking sound. "Perhaps you would not be so quick to defend him, kawaii, if you knew…"
"What?" Quatre retorted. "What could possibly be wrong about him?"
He made a low sound of disdain and quickly crossed the room, grabbing the blond by the arms and pulling him close. The steely glint in his eyes was cold and frosted with anger. "You little fool," he muttered. "Zechs was in love with Leia, too. Don't you know that - No…" He answered himself as he watched Quatre flinch in disbelief. "No, I can see you don't. Do you really care so much about Zechs? I can hardly believe it, not when you react to me as you do, not when your eyes grow so warm at my touch. I can feel you trembling even now."
"Stop it," Quatre hissed, pulling away from him and backing against the rough wall of the shed. "I've had enough. I won't let you hurt me anymore."
He moved slowly toward the blond, and came so close that Quatre could feel the other's thighs brush against his. "Hurt you, kawaii?" He whispered. "I could never hurt you. That is the real reason I'm telling you about Zechs. Can't you see that he is only using you to recapture what he once felt for your mother? You look so much like her…"
His hand moved forward to catch the blond's gypsy's tail, bringing it forth over Quatre's shoulder. Heero's eyes flashed strangely as he watched the golden strands slip from his fingers. "So… alluring…" He whispered as his head came down, blotting out the light from the flickering lamp.
There was a hunger in his kiss that even he could not deny, and this time there was no punishment in the touch of his lips. His fist caught at Quatre's gypsy's tail once again, fingers twining in its strands as though to pull the blond even closer; his body pushed Quatre hard against the rough boards of the building. When he pulled away, his mouth hesitated only an inch from Quatre's, their hard breathing mingling together in the silence.
"Kawaii," he moaned throatily against Quatre's lips. "What am I to do with you? You intoxicate me as surely as the wine…"
"Heero," the blond hissed, reaching to feel those lips on his again.
When Heero dragged his mouth away this time, Quatre was surprised to feel a tremor in the darker man's strong body. Shaking his head as though to clear it, he muttered an oath and stepped back and away. "Even so," he groaned, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You could be the son of a man I care a great deal about. I can't let myself forget that very important possibility."
He stepped to the door and opened it upon unused, squeaking hinges. The rain had almost stopped, but the breeze that wafted through the open doorway was colder now and filled with mist. He went outside and untied the horses.
When Quatre stepped outside to Sandi, Heero moved behind him. His hands slid over Quatre's stomach, pulling the blond back against his chest. He held Quatre tightly for a second, then released him and knelt down to give the blond a leg-up onto the golden mare before turning to mount his own horse.
They rode in silence. Heero's eyes moved to Quatre's several times, and he was unable to hide the passion they had just shared. Quatre knew the darker man wanted to forget it, could see it in the clenching of his jaw and the way he quickly looked away if Quatre happened to meet his gaze.
They rode into the warm shelter of the stable. Trowa was there now, and he came forward with a smile to take the horses. "Bad day for riding," he tsked, shaking his head. "You both look like you could use some dry clothes and something warm to drink."
"That we could," Heero said as he reached out to rub the shining skin of his horse. He glanced quickly at Quatre, then away.
Trowa whistled merrily as he took the horses toward the back of the stable. He spoke to them as if they were his children, whispering and cooing to keep them calm and agreeable.
Heero turned to Quatre, his eyes serious, and his voice was low and quiet. "Trowa's right. We'd better get some dry clothes. I hope next time I tell you it's going to rain, you will listen." There was a hint of his old arrogance in his voice.
"I will," Quatre said, not bothering to argue. "But… can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Will you take me to meet the man who lives on the mountain, the man named Duo? If there's a chance he knows anything…"
"Yes," he said simply, not needing Quatre to explain. "I'll go with you. Besides, it's probably the only way I can keep you out of trouble."
"I'm sorry I hit you, by the way."
"Don't apologize. I was baiting you, after all." He turned away.
Quatre quickly caught the darker man's arm before he could go. "Heero… I won't pretend it didn't happen."
A frown appeared between Heero's brows as he realized what Quatre was talking about. "I'm afraid you'll have to," he muttered, gently pulling away. Without another word, he left the stable. The tiny hole in Quatre's chest ripped open a little wider.
The blond waited until Heero had disappeared into the castle, then he followed, running quickly across the rain-soaked ground. He stopped abruptly at the back door when he saw who was waiting for him.
Dorothy Une stepped forward, her voice quiet and her face twisted into a hateful sneer. "How dare you come into Hiromi's home looking like this! So… so midarete imasu!(3) Can't you see what a fool you are making of yourself? First your outrageous behavior with Zechs, and now with Heero. Do you really believe a man like Heero Yuy could ever care about someone like you? He will only use you, as men like him have always used trash like you. You are a whore, exactly like your mother!"
Quatre felt the rage rush through his veins at her words. Let her say what she wanted about him, but he would not stand and listen to her vicious lies about his mother. Stepping forward, he grabbed her by the shoulders and backed her up against the wall. He saw the unexpected fear in her eyes as he stepped close to her.
"Never say another word to me about my mother! Keep your mouth shut about her, do you hear me? Utter even one syllable about her, and I'll show you why people fear a gypsy's wrath!" Releasing her, Quatre brushed roughly past and shoved his way into the castle. He could see Sally's curious face as he passed through the kitchen and he knew the kindly woman had heard their raised voices.
All he wanted to do was get to his room, where he could be alone, away from all the disapproving glances and questioning looks. He needed to think about all that had happened today, and about the man he feared he was falling in love with.
3) Midarete imasu = disheveled. The original translation in the book was French. Try translating something French into Japanese, it's a hell of a trial. I'm still not sure I got it right…